The Octagon Window
by Elemglace
Summary: Order of the Phoenix members Draco and Hermione discover a dangerous and ancient relic that is connected to Hermione's past.
1. Prologue: Two Pieces

The Octagon Window

Prologue: Two Pieces

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** October 9th 1985**

The first time that Hermione disappeared was when she was six.

When it happened, she had been curled up in her mother's closet, surrounded by expensive and clean-cut business suits that dangled from the padded wooden hangers,

As an adult, the strongest memory Hermione remembered from the event was that it had been storming heavily, and streaks of lightning had been visible though the small octagon-shaped window in the closet.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," her small voice had been whispering over and over again.

Hermione knew she was in trouble; she had lost control of her abilities once again. She had run home as soon as it happened, fearful of everyone's reactions. No one tried to stop her.

She knew her parents would be angry, and she wasn't old enough to understand that her parents' anger would only be a result of the worry and protectiveness they felt for their only daughter.

Amelia and Stephan Granger knew their daughter was a witch. It is near impossible for two loving parents to raise a witch as powerful as Hermione without figuring out at a very young age that their child was, indeed, a witch.

Odd explosions at home whenever she had been upset as a baby, objects moving, other children inexplicably suffering some sort of minor malady whenever they teased the bushy-haired Hermione. Yes, the Grangers knew their daughter was a witch.

The revelation hadn't been much of a shock, apart for the obvious shocking-ness of the whole thing. They were Christians, though certainly took no part in anything resembling fanatic. They enjoyed their Christmas presents and Easter feasts but that was the extent of their devotion. Those various neighbors who spoke to them of the Devil and their daughter in the same sentence could go bugger themselves for all the Grangers cared.

Hermione was a kind, loving, intelligent and healthy child and that was more than enough to satisfy any misgivings they might have originally had about their daughter's unexpected skills; they did not fear Hermione in the least. What the Grangers did fear, however, was the wrath of others that had a more prejudice and cowardly disposition.

Those types of people, they knew, might try to hurt their child.

So, ever since Hermione's first public display of power, they had instructed her to stay silent about her abilities and try to never display them to anyone outside of her immediate family.

Being an obedient child, Hermione tried as hard as she could to keep her powers hidden. However, as obedient as Hermione strove to be, she was equally emotional and stubborn and she sometimes found it hard to control abilities that she simply didn't know how to control.

That day, when her classmates had made fun of her plentiful hair and books, she had lost her temper, resulting in one of the not-so-rare and often talked about "incidents" at Hermione's school.

Shy little Dougie McCleanan had taken the brunt of the wave of erasers and chalk that had flown across the room.

She had run into her house using the small garage door opener that her parents had given her in case of an emergency and had headed right into her mother's closet. Crouching in the far left corner of the room, the octagon window right above her head, she had wished and wished for anything, something, to take her away and put her with people who were just like her.

And, in that moment, with that wish, Hermione had disappeared with a pop.

**Present Day**

**October 9th 1999**

"Stay low," Draco snapped.

Hermione wiped the sweat from her eyes. "I'm staying as bloody low as I bloody well can."

Draco's eyebrows rose slightly, even while he continued to survey the cavern they were in. A conveniently placed rock wall hid them from view, but hardly took them out of danger. The Death Eaters had mostly cleared out of the immediate area, but their voices could still be heard.

"You sound tense. How much longer?"

Hermione shook her head, clearly frustrated, "I'm going as fast as I can, I assure you. These hieroglyphs are like nothing I've ever seen before."

Draco tightened his hold on his wand, "You're supposed to be an expert Granger."

"They're just incredibly obscure. Our intelligence wasn't wrong, the Egyptian…" Hermione's voice trailed off.

"Granger?"

"Oh my god."

"What Granger?"

"I think they might be—"

An explosion echoed through the cavern, shaking the ground and cutting Hermione off.

"Shit," Hermione rolled her supplies into her messenger bag. "We can't leave this."

Draco knew better than to argue with her; after a year of working together he knew to trust her when she said something was important.

"Fine, lets put some concealment and weightless charms on it and head out. I don't think they're just blowing up stuff for fun."

Hermione nodded her head and hissed the charms quickly while Draco began to move away from the rock wall. He looked back to her and gave the signal to follow.

Together, they sprinted down the narrow pathways, the relic Hermione had been working on levitating between them.

By the time the Death Eaters realized that their intruders had escaped with the relic, Hermione and Draco had escaped into the desert air.

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**Author's Note:** This my first time out writing, so I'd really appreciate ANY reviews. As for the dates, I relied on the HP Lexicon…the DVDs say Herms was born in 1980, but the Lexicon explains that the September of 1979 is more likely. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks! 


	2. Background

**Author's Note: **Alright, here is chapter one, which includes all the background on Hr/D and the war up to this point in the story. I hope you all enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I am poor and own nothing but the plot.

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"It really is like World War II."

Draco looked up at his girlfriend's voice, "Excuse me?"

Hermione, who had been standing by a floor to ceiling window holding a coffee mug, shook her head, snapping herself out of the reverie she had thought herself into while Draco had been sorting through reports on her kitchen table.

"Never mind," she said with a sigh as she sat down at the table, "Muggle thing."

Draco rolled his eyes, though his face was still turned down towards whatever report he was reading through, "Granger, I know what World War II was. I don't know the details, but…"

He trailed off, holding a half-eaten piece of toast in the air near his ear.

A few moments went by before Hermione's curiosity got the best of her. "What is it?"

This time it was Draco's turn to shake his head and return his thoughts to the kitchen, "Sorry, I was distracted."

"Gathered that, by what?"

"We're getting a new member of our team on Friday."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up as she took another sip of coffee, "What's their name?"

Draco, who seemed to have remembered the toast he was holding, waited to swallow before speaking. "No name. No specialties listed either. All that Lupin gave us is that whoever this person is has dual citizenship in both America and the UK and has no family to speak of." Draco paused, scanning through the report one more time. "Must be either very skilled or not skilled at all." He finished with a sneer.

"Well, he or she wouldn't be assigned to us if they weren't skilled. Maybe Harry knows more."

"I guarantee you Potty knows more. He always knows more."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Which is appropriate, him being team leader and all."

Draco just grunted, shuffling through a few more papers.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione leaned across the table and poked him in the arm. Draco looked up, startled.

"Sorry Granger, I'm almost through. Don't you have work to finish up too?"

"Finished it last night before bed."

Draco smiled, "You're crazy, you know that? I barely remember walking in here last night after that mission. Can't imagine how you got any work done."

Hermione just shrugged, standing up. "I just hate to go to sleep before our one day off every two months knowing I have work in the morning."

Draco winced, getting the strong feeling he had disappointed her by working through the morning. Before he could say anything, however, Hermione waved her hand.

"Its alright, I understand, I'd just like to relax a little with you later." Kissing him on the cheek, she smiled. "Really, I'm just a bit tired and grumpy. I'm going to take a shower and wake up some more."

Draco watched her leave the room, wondering if that was an invitation to join her or not. Deciding that it probably wasn't, he turned back to the last few reports.

In the bathroom, Hermione had already murmured the soft spell that started the shower. The shower was large, more an open area of tile than anything else. Leaning her hands against the cool tiles, Hermione let her neck fall, allowing the hot water to work on her back first.

She felt silly for feeling hurt that Draco was working; this was a war after all. Lord knows she would rather him work than leave something important half finished. Hermione suspected her actual hurt stemmed from the fact their relationship just wasn't as…red hot as it used to be.

Though, Hermione mused, she imagined that was to be expected after a year of tireless espionage and fighting. One usually can't get in the mood when one's body is physically exhausted.

Still, they used to manage quite nicely.

The official war had been going on for 2 years now. Though only a small fraction of her life, Hermione could barely remember life away from the chaos that embodied the fight between the light and the dark.

Hermione chuckled. Sometimes it was hard to use those terms and not think about Darth Vader and the rest of the Star Wars gang.

Voldemort and Darth. The comparison was begging to be made.

Things could be much worse; she wasn't living in a tent, fighting day to day, as she had once imagined she might. There were large and bloody battles to be sure, but they weren't as common as the intense subterfuge, assassinations and espionage that made up this magical war.

Like the original Order of the Phoenix before them, the current Order worked in dark shadows and with determined passion. There were other groups fighting of course, much of the young adult population of the magical world was involved on one of the sides.

The Order, however, was the most respected and elite group. The members were privileged by the fact that they has more creature comforts than the rest, but cursed by the fact that their talent required them to take on the most dangerous and important missions. Not that Hermione, or any of the Order, could stand to do any less.

Hermione had joined the Order after her sixth year, after Dumbledore's death and the closing of Hogwarts. Though Harry had planned on leaving to find the Horocruxes on his own, Ron and Hermione's loyalty was unwavering.

At Bill and Fleur's wedding that summer, the Order had convinced Harry to let them help, to allow them help him with their talent and knowledge. Hermione suspected that Harry's concern for his two best friends was the main reason for his decision.

Hermione personally thought if Harry hadn't had made this decision, they wouldn't have made it as far as they had.

It had been rough at first, Harry dragging his feet, unwilling to completely let go on his hero's instinct to go at it alone. However, as the search for the remaining Horcruxes grew more and more complex and complicated, the aid of the Order proved extremely beneficial. It had taken two exhausting years, but they had managed to collect all but one of the horcruxes (besides the one that was Voldemort himself), and the Order was pretty sure that the artifact Draco and Hermione had collected last night was the final piece.

At present, the magical world was basically at a standstill. Though the spy network held strong and was kept quite busy, Draco and Hermione's mission the night before being a testament to that, there had been no battles as of late. However, if the artifact captured last night proved to be what Hermione believed it was, that could change in an instant.

It was a dark time and every witch and wizard sat with an indrawn breath they had yet to let out.

Hermione turned, the water droplets running down her breasts to her stomach. Draco. Her mind, as always, turned back to him. He had joined the Order a year after the search for the Horcuxes had begun. He had apparated to right in front of Lupin, a skinny and dirty thing.

They had killed his mother right in front of him, and Hermione could only imagine what else. Draco refused to talk about it. Hermione snorted, not that Draco ever talked about anything.

Hermione gave herself a mental slap. What was wrong with her? Pouting that Draco didn't feel comfortable enough to talk to her about the torture and murder of his mother? She was acting like a child, and an entirely selfish one at that.

The others assumed she knew more about Draco's past than they did but really, she didn't know much more than then they did when it came to him. She knew he had been tortured, to say the least, and the thought of it gave her a powerfully sick feeling. Snape had set him free afterwards, an action that confounded the Order and Draco himself particularly.

Snape. Now there's another conundrum, Hermione thought. Though he had not been heard from in the past two years, his loyalty to Voldemort was still frustratingly questionable. From time to time they received vital intelligence from an unknown source that Lupin swore was delivered in true Snape style. The Order would move forward, using this intelligence with a sense of dread, but more often than not, the results were hugely successful.

Snape's betrayal of Dumbledore had caused a huge wave of questions on just what Dumbledore could have been thinking, accepting Snape on basically nothing more than an elaborate apology. Those most loyal to Dumbledore now believed there had to be something more, anything more to explain Dumbledore's high opinion of Snape.

Hermione shook her head, no more of that today. This was the one day out of every two months that Draco and her actually had some time alone. The war would not be her chief concern this afternoon and evening.

No, Hermione resolved firmly in her mind, some shags and a good meal would occupy her thoughts today.

Stepping out of the shower and toweling off, she wrapped the towel around her body. As she walked out to find Draco, imagining getting reacquainted with his body.

When she found him, however, he was curled up, fast asleep on the couch.

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Poor sleepy Draco. Poor insecure Hermione. And who could the new character be? Please review!


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